


Cuts Me Deep

by darkforetold



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Dirty Talk, First Time, Honeypot, Jealousy, Lies, M/M, Masturbation, Mission Fic, Pining, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: Gabriel gets caught up in the game.Gabriel plunged deeper into the roiling pits of his jealousy. Was the information they neededthat important? He doubted everything and started picking apart the mission, piece by piece, in an effort to just—make it all go away.In his fit of self-doubt andloathing, the comms clicked on.“You really want to fuck me, don’t you?”





	Cuts Me Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaimera/gifts).



> For Kaimera, who wanted jealous/pining Gabe and mistletoe! Merry Christmas! I hope you like it! <33
> 
> Thank you to @somewhatclear for the fabulous beta help!

  


_It cuts me deep_  
_And it cuts me wide_  
_This gut rock feelin'_  
_I get inside_

_I blame you_  
_But it's really me_  
_Can't rid myself_  
_Of jealousy_

—King King, Jealousy

  


Gabriel wanted to kill him as soon as he saw him.

He was clean-cut in an expensive suit. Dark hair. Intense blue eyes. The angles on his face could cut glass, with just enough stubble on his jawline to be considered GQ without looking ragged. He had a smile that could kill, a laugh that’d make angels weep—hell, even he’d fuck him if he didn’t despise him. His name? Gabriel Santori. Fucking typical. 

Typical, too, was that this was a honeypot mission. The bait: Jesse McCree, striking in a dark Armani suit that hugged his body in all the right ways. His long lean lines, hair whisked back and tied behind his head—he was both sexy and completely alien to him: all cleaned up and beautiful in every way that was wrong and right. The entire situation—the mission, how Jesse looked, how fucking handsome the mark was—it was unbearable; unfair, too, because Gabriel wouldn’t be the one to fuck Jesse tonight.

At the bar, Jesse leaned into not-him like he always did with his marks. Knowing Jesse, knowing his games after years of suffering through them, Jesse was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of him. Though this time? It was _too close_. 

A fire burned hot inside his chest, and something… destructive ran through him like quicksilver, rotting his nerves through. He shifted in his chair, practically squirming with how uncomfortable _all of this_ made him. Positioned within sight distance of the bar, he watched Jesse put on his usual show: more leaning in, eye contact, a touch here and there. Gabriel tore his eyes away and growled low in his chest, flicking the newspaper open so quickly it ripped a little. 

Jesse and his new best friend shared a laugh together, and Gabriel clenched his teeth. It sounded how poisoned tasted, and bile rose up rough in his throat. He dared another glance at them, and Jesse chose that particular moment to lean in even more— _how close does he need to get, for fuck’s sake_ —and wink. It was as if he’d touched an open wire. Something jolted him, setting fire to every nerve ending he had. He wanted to—

Gabriel clenched the newspaper in his hands, finger-crescent tears puncturing the pages. It took everything he had in him to look away again. He concentrated on the words in front of him, but they ended up unfocused and blurry, sacrificed to the nonsensical feelings overriding his system. And he would’ve kept staring, trying to make sense of out nothing, if Jesse hadn’t laughed—a laugh that was belly deep and only meant for _him_. 

He snapped his eyes up in time to catch Jesse canting his hip to one side, reaching back to rub the first knot of his spine; something that made him appear bashful with enough boyish charm to be utterly sexy. Nevermind that it was their signal, that he’d hooked the mark. Gabriel almost didn’t care and he had half a mind to storm over and stop this entire thing dead in its tracks. But the commander in him… 

Gabriel steeled his composure and rose from his chair, tossing the newspaper aside. The grand foyer of the hotel was decked with Christmas garlands, lights, a ceiling-tall tree bespeckled with glass ornaments of a million colors—and he hated all of it. On his way by, he snatched a sprig of mistletoe, gripping it between his fingers until it bit at his skin. He’d take anything over the gnawing at his heart, this… _jealousy_ corroding his sensibilities and self-confidence. Pain he could take ten-fold. Whatever the hell this was? It was picking apart his seams.

The elevator opened up to him, swallowing him whole before ascending and dumping him out onto the fifth floor. He made it to the room in one piece, shut and locked the door, and got into place on the bed. Since Jesse had insisted on leading this one, the only thing he could do was listen in case Jesse needed backup—and suffer while Jesse was getting fucked.

Gabriel ran fingers through his hair. He kept it long now because he was an idiot; because Jesse had mentioned in passing that he liked men who had hair he could grab. It never sat right on his head, and he smashed his mess of curls to one side, rubbing the undercut because it felt good against his fingers—and he _had_ to keep his hands busy. He grabbed the mistletoe off the bed and played with it between his hands. Butterflies mutated and ate away at his stomach lining. Any second the comm would click on, and when it did—

He sat up a little straighter and listened. Murmuring on the other side. Indiscernible. Then—

_“Why don’t you come over here...”_

—Jesse’s voice, tinted dark and rotted sweet. Gabriel rubbed a hand down his face and _ached_. He’d fallen in love with him years ago, but never had the balls to act on it. Now, someone else was, and it _killed him_.

_It’s just a mission_ , he told himself—

_“I’m thinkin’ I want to be the one gettin’ fucked tonight.”_

—but it didn’t help.

Not-him said something that made Jesse laugh again, a sound that made his heart swell. He got up, tossing the mistletoe back and forth in his hands, and paced the floor. Through the comm, he knew they were kissing. The noises of their mouths pressed hard together, nearly ravenous, filled his ear. He let out the breath he’d been holding and sat down in the chair, only to get up again a second later. He should have more control over this. It wasn’t like him. The toxic energy clawing at his insides was making him sick.

_“God, Gabe—“_

He swallowed hard.

_"—keep goin’ on like that and you’re gonna make me come already...”_

He wanted to know what they were doing, but whether it was out of pure curiosity or self-torture, he didn’t know. He caught himself tuning in to Jesse, his every breath, the way it hitched just so. He could tell when liked what he saw (the soft little exhale through his nose), and when not-him touched Jesse in a way that turned him on. There was a little noise in the back of Jesse’s throat, fighting to break free. A little strangled, bordering on the very finest note of a whine. Was not-him sucking Jesse’s dick? That’d explain the—

_Stop it._

Gabriel snapped out of it and settled for pacing the floor before checking and re-checking their equipment for the second, fifth, eighth time while Jesse moaned in his ear, hot and filthy— _fuck_. The echo of it reverberated down his spine and pooled in his gut. He stopped and held onto the dresser, thinking of anything else to keep his dick under control, from getting harder than he had ever been in his life. Biting the inside of his cheek did nothing to block out Jesse’s groans.

He chucked the mistletoe aside and ran both hands through his hair, interlacing his fingers together at the back of his head and squeezing. This was fucking torture—it felt like dying.

_“Gabe, I want you to fuck me,”_ Jesse groaned. _“Please. Just—God, fuck me. I need your hard dick inside me now, for the love of God.”_

More mumbling, words he couldn’t quite hear. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Jesse sprawled out on the bed, naked, his thighs spread wide open for him and only him—fuck, he’d treat him so good, kissing him from his collarbones down to his nipples, licking and sucking until he rendered Jesse a breathless mess. He’d worship his dick like the meaning of his entire life was exactly that. Then, he’d made love to him, just as sweet and careful as Jesse deserved. Love him until he took his last breath.

_“Gabe,”_ Jesse panted over the comms, _“Tell me how bad you want t’fuck me.”_

—but there was someone else fucking him instead, and it hurt more than a bullet to the heart.

“Jesse...” His heart stammered in his chest. “What I wouldn’t give for that to be me instead.”

Another one of Jesse’s moans answered him, then murmuring; a voice that wasn’t his, whispering sweet nothings in Jesse’s ear.

_“I like that. Talk dirty to me while you’re fuckin’ me, darlin’.”_

_Goddamit._

Gabriel closed his eyes and took another steadying breath, fists clenched desperately at his sides. He was forced to listen to each one of Jesse’s little pants, every time not-him rammed into him. And he couldn’t just... stand there and listen. His comms were off, muted so Jesse couldn’t hear, so he took a chance. “That asshole in there, fucking you? He’s got nothing I don’t have, Jesse. God, I’d give it to you so much better than he ever could.”

_“Fuck, Gabe. Fuck me harder.”_ Another groan. _“Come on, com—harder.”_

“You want to be fucked hard?”

_“Yesyesyes,”_ Jesse moaned. 

“You wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week,” Gabriel whispered back. “I’d tie you to the bed, just how I know you like. Leave bruises just below your collarbone so no one would see, and they’d be just _painful enough_ to remind you of me _every single_ time you breathe. Then? You know what I’d do? I’d fuck you until you were _raw_.” He let out a shallow noise of his own. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

_“Yes.”_ A little strangled grunt. _“Fuck. I’m going to come.”_

“Not until I tell you to.”

_“Gabe. Please.”_

Whatever fucked up fantasy he’d inserted himself into—it was going too far. He should’ve turned off his comm before Jesse came, but he wanted to hear it. He’d always wondered what it sounded like, if the sound rumbled deep in his chest, if he whined a little or grunted instead. Whatever he’d imagined didn’t come close to what he heard. While the other noises Jesse had made were quiet, choked off, him coming was loud, unbridled, and absolutely _shameless_. It shook him to his core, quaked down his body and went straight to his dick. Instantly hard, Gabriel let out a little sound of his own, surprised.. worse—completely about to lose control.

The comms stuttered to life.

_“Reyes?”_

Gabriel clicked his comm button. “Reporting.”

Silence.

_“Gabe, you there?”_

Frowning, he clicked the comms again. “Reporting,” he repeated.

_“He didn’t give me what I needed. Gonna have to try again tomorrow.”_

“Acknowledged. Reyes out.”

He tore the comm link out of his ear and threw it against the wall. Then, he thundered into the bathroom, ignoring the hot and heavy weight between his legs. He turned the shower ice cold, stripped down, and stepped inside. But the cold water didn’t do anything to erase the sound of Jesse coming in his ear. Nothing ever could. 

Desperately, he grabbed his hard dick with soaped up hands and fucked into his fist. In his fantasy, he pressed Jesse against the shower wall and slipped into him, fucking him against the tile. Gabriel kissed the back of his neck, touched him in all the right ways, soft and gentle, just like he deserved to be touched. He made love to him in that shower in ways he never would be able to, and came hard in his hand, spilling hot and eager. 

The high took his breath away, and when he crashed—that was when the shame set in.

::::

He had seen Jesse both at breakfast and the lunch buffet the next day. No visible marks on his skin from the neck up, his gait normal—just as confident and sexy as it had always been. Still, Gabriel worried. Wondered even, if not-him had marked him in some way he couldn’t see, that under all Jesse’s bravado, he was actually hurting. Maybe even scared. 

If he had been, Jesse didn’t show it, sliding easily into the booth to sit next to the target at lunch. Not-him stared at Jesse like he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. And though Gabriel hated him, he himself knew that feeling—of simply being amazed that Jesse existed at all.

Gabriel retreated to his room around nightfall, going through his ritual of checking and rechecking their equipment. Pacing the room. Keeping his hands busy. The comm would click on any second, he knew, and the anticipation was killing him. Waiting gave him time to remember Jesse and not-him practically _snuggling_ in that booth, so close that it’d made him sick. He plunged deeper into the roiling pits of his jealousy. Was the information they needed _that important_? He doubted everything and started picking apart the mission, piece by piece, in an effort to just—make it all go away. 

In his fit of self-doubt and _loathing_ , the comms clicked on.

_“You really want to fuck me, don’t you?”_

His stomach jolted up to his ears. Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, instinctively grabbing the mistletoe off the nightstand and gripping it tight in his hands. It bit at his fingertips, but he didn’t care. He was too busy tuning into Jesse’s breathing, memorizing every hitch, every inflection and reading into it like the symbolism in a literary novel. There was mumbling on the other side he couldn’t quite make out, and Jesse’s voice kissed his ears.

_“No. I want it real rough tonight, darlin’. Make me feel it tomorrow mornin’.”_

_Fuck._

_“Want you to mark my skin all up. When they look at me, I want them t’know I’m yours.”_

No. Jesse was _his_.

Something ugly snaked around inside him, and he _snapped_. Gabriel was out the door before he could think and tore down the hall in a blur. The thought of not-him touching Jesse again, kissing him, pulling those noises out his throat… nothing was worth sacrificing Jesse to that again. Fuck Blackwatch. Fuck the mission. Fuck _everything_.

Red and green was all he saw as he thundered around a corner, slamming himself into Jesse’s door. It gave way easily—Jesse left it unlocked, like they’d agreed—and smattered against the wall with the force. From the bed, Jesse looked at him wide eyed. Red flush on his cheeks and neck. And he was _alone_. Gabriel took a quick sweep of the room—no target—then tore into the bathroom, whipping back the frosted-glass shower door. He heard his name somewhere beyond the pounding of his heart, but he ignored it, turned to ripping the place apart instead. Searching for _him_ until someone grabbed his arm. He growled and whirled to face his oppressor.

Jesse stared accusingly right back at him.

“Where is he?”

“The fuck Gabe—“

Gabriel pushed past him. “Where’s the target?”

He jerked open a closet—no one there—then went to the door, opened it and looked down the hallway. “He leave already? Answer me, Jesse!”

“For fuck’s sake, Gabe…”

“Jesse, I swear to God—”

“There ain’t no fuckin’ mark, alright!”

“Bullshit,” Gabriel barked. “Where is he?”

It was as if someone had sucked out everything that made Jesse _him_. That air of confidence was totally gone. The sexy ease in the way he stood, chin notched up in permanent defiance, simply _existed_ —was replaced by a sheepish little boy that’d been found with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. Gabriel stepped back as if he’d been bit.

“There’s no…”

“Mark,” they said together. Jesse nodded, then said, “Yeah, no mark.”

“I saw him,” Gabriel grated out.

“You saw some poor vacationer with a soft spot for pretty men.”

“What are you saying?” It finally clicked in his brain, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “All of this—” he circled mid-air with his finger, “is…”

“Fake,” Jesse finished for him.

Gabriel let out the breath he’d been holding and leaned against the wall. He watched Jesse go through a series of emotions right in front of him: his uncertainty obvious as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Defiance when he crossed his arms over his chest, and finally, a little shame when he dropped his eyes and looked at the floor. But Gabriel wasn’t staring at Jesse, just through him, processing. 

No mark meant no mission, it meant the file Jesse had let him read for a minute hadn’t been real. Jesse wanted to lead the mission for a reason—because it’d all been bullshit and Jesse didn’t want him to catch wind of it. So, if none of it was real... then… the comms?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You better start explaining. Right now, Jesse. Before I lose it.”

Jesse frowned. “I’m thinkin’ we both got some explainin’ to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gabriel snapped. Jesse opened his mouth. “You know what? Skip it. You go first.”

“Alright.” Jesse shrugged and toed the carpet. “I wanted a break.”

“A break. From?”

“ _Everythin’_ , Gabe. The last few months, we’ve been workin’ our asses off, and for what? Nothin’. Shit’s still real bad out there. So, I thought… why not take a break? Make up some dumb mission and get the hell outta Dodge for a while.”

Gabriel blinked rapidly, dumbstruck. “So, then..” He chuckled a little. But nothing was funny about this. “You just… decided to—what, do it on Overwatch’s dime? Oh, even better, fool your _Strike Commander_ into signing off on this? Because I’m sure Jack didn’t know about this little stunt.”

“Nope. Wasn’t my name on the paperwork neither.”

“You used _mine_?” Gabriel hissed.

“We both know he approves anythin’ with your name on it.”

Gabriel stared at him hard, clenching his teeth. Jesse withered under his gaze and tucked his bottom lip under his teeth—something he’d always done when he wanted to get away with whatever shit he pulled. Any other time, it was both parts incredibly sexy and adorable, and Jesse knew it. Right now? It made him even _angrier_.

“You need to give me a reason not to—fucking…” _punch you right now._ “—walk right out this goddamn door.”

Jesse jerked his head up, surprised. He looked around, a little lost, then said, “You’re here with me? I’m thinkin’ that’s reason enough,” in a way that he thought everything should be completely obvious to Gabriel. “You think I did this just for myself? You thinkin’ I’d risk your name and reputation just for… me?” When he didn’t get an answer— “You think I’m some kind of selfish asshole or somethin’? Thought you knew me better than that, Gabe.”

“Thought I did, Jesse. But then this happened. Just another one of your little fucked up games again, I guess.” Gabriel sighed, frustrated. Absolutely fucking exhausted.

“Did it for you, you know,” Jesse mumbled.

“What?”

“I said I did it for you. Hell, for _me_ too.” Without missing a beat, Jesse said, “How else am I supposed t’get time alone with you? Or, _fuck_ , to finally, after all these fuckin’ years, get you to make a goddamn move.”

Gabriel stared at him blankly, acting a shade stupid enough to force Jesse to explain—while he held his breath.

“Gabriel Reyes, I know you’re just actin’ stupid. You know exactly what I mean.” Jesse ran fingers through his hair. “But since you ain’t got enough balls to admit it, I’ll go ahead and explain it t’you.” He lit a cigarette, something he always did, but particularly when he was nervous. “These games we’ve been playin’ with each other—We both been playin’ ‘em. We both know we got feelin’s for each other. I know you got feelin’s for me and—”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, waving a hand. “Fuck the prologue. Get to the point.”

“The mark’s name bein’ Gabriel—that weren’t a mistake,” Jesse said, as if it explained everything.

—and it did. It meant Jesse was playing another game with him. The things he’d said over the comms— _fuck_ …

“You _know_ how I feel about you, Jesse,” Gabriel began, tone dark, “and you teasing me—”

“I wasn’t teasin’ you,” Jesse snapped. “Trust me, I ain’t teasin’. Not anymore. ‘Sides…” Jesse notched his chin up, cocky. “The shit you said to me over comms…? That weren’t teasin’ on your part?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “What—” Suddenly, his eyes blew wide open. “ _Shit_.”

It was Jesse’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Wait, you didn’t know?”

Gabriel schooled his face and frowned to hide whatever embarrassment he’d shown. 

“Your comms were on the whol—”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gabriel snipped. He cleared his throat into his fist.

Jesse whistled. “You are mighty fine when you blush, Gabe.”

“ _Jesse_.”

Jesse raised his hands in surrender, then sucked greedily at his cigarette before putting it out. “Tell me somethin’.” He blew the smoke upward and looked at him sidelong—sexy as hell. “When you said you’d give it to me better than he ever could? Were you… jealous?”

Gabriel clenched his jaw, and Jesse didn’t push it. Only swaggered over, cocky as fuck, and stood just an inch away, right in front of him. Their eyes met. There was a dangerous sparkle in Jesse’s dark browns. “Jealousy is a real sexy look on you, Gabe. So sexy that I’m gonna let you in on a little confession of mine.” Jesse inched closer, and Gabriel couldn’t help but be drawn in. “I want you to fuck me. I've been wantin’ you to fuck me for a long time, but we were too busy playin’ whatever fucked up games we were playin’ to actually do anythin’ about whatever it is we got between us.”

His confession, whispered sweet against the shell of his ear—Gabriel took in a shallow breath through his nose, trying to keep a hold of whatever scraps of sanity he had left. He lost them instead, swimming deep in everything Jesse McCree. The scent of smoke, whatever cologne he was wearing… it was dark mahogany and cinnamon, a touch of vanilla with an undernote of sandalwood—and it drove him _crazy_. Whatever doubts he’d had—that Jesse wouldn’t take _them_ seriously, that he’d fall deeply in love and ultimately be hurt—flew by the wayside. It was just him, laid bare, wide open, and completely raw. Defenseless.

“Still—” Gabriel whispered, in a last ditch effort. He swallowed hard when Jesse touched his arm. “—pissed at you for playing _another_ fucked up game...”

“Gabriel Reyes,” Jesse drawled, “Did you not just hear what I said? I said I want you to fuck me. How clear I gotta be here?”

Fingertips brushed his skin. His head started spinning. “Got a funny way of being clear,” Gabriel whispered.

“Forget ‘bout me bein’ dumb for a second and _fuck me_ , you stubborn bastard. Or do I gotta spell it out for you? ‘Caus—”

Gabriel tackled Jesse onto the mattress. The surprised little noise he’d pushed out of Jesse—Gabriel chased it as Jesse squirmed up the bed from underneath him. Kissing him hard, swallowing down every panting breath Jesse let slip through his lips. Greedy, Jesse grabbed handfuls of his ass and nipped at his mouth in desperation while Gabriel straddled him, putting bruising pressure on his hips with strong thighs. Jesse hissed and jerked his hips up, seeking friction, his mouth—

“Fuck me, Gabe. _God_. This is all I ever been wantin’ for the longest time. I want your big, hard d—“

Gabriel covered his mouth—“Shh.”—because all Jesse seemed to do was talk, talk, talk. He watched Jesse’s pupils blow wide open, and he gripped Jesse’s face a little harder just because he could. Jesse let out a strangled noise and arched his back like a cat in heat—Jesse loved pain, and Gabriel knew it. That darker part of him wanted to punish Jesse for playing the game as long as he had, for putting him through torture. The stunt he’d pulled—the fake mission, fooling him, _everything_ —had been just another play, and Gabriel wanted to mark Jesse all over for it. Half of him wanted Jesse to pay _dearly_. The other half… 

He glanced away. On the nightstand sat a sprig of mistletoe, innocent and blameless in its simplicity. Pure. This… wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wanted their first time to be sweet, slow. 

When he’d first heard of the mission, he planned to somehow.. derail it. Fantasized that he’d rescue Jesse, whisk him off somewhere romantic, confess his feelings—put an end to the ridiculous way they’d chased each other for years. But the time hadn’t been right. He’d never found the courage.

Hurting Jesse like this, rough sex… this wasn’t what he wanted.

Fingertips against his cheek drew him out of his reverie.

“Give it to me sweet,” Jesse whispered. “That’s all I want.”

Gabriel leaned into Jesse’s touch, kissing the palm of his hand, his wrist, then down to his mouth. They were chest to chest then, flush and warm, body heat bleeding into each other. There was no telling where one of them began and the other ended, all blurred lines and tangles limbs. They kissed until their lips bruised, touched each other until clothes and anything between them became utterly _painful_. They removed shirts and pants, tossed them any which way, and came together again, burning hot skin almost too much. Gabriel kissed his lips gently, and Jesse responded in kind, kissing just as soft, exploratory. They mapped each other with fingertips, over planes of muscle and sensitive skin. Gabriel mouthed Jesse’s collarbone, and Jesse let out a hiss of a moan, arching his body, seeking more of that friction—and Gabriel gave it to him, bearing down on him with his hips. Their hard dicks rubbed together, and Jesse gasped with it, nosing Gabriel’s cheekbone and letting out a deep, throaty noise that Gabriel had to have more of.

He ducked beneath Jesse’s chin, kissed his throat, behind his ear. “Where is it?”

They both knew what he meant. Jesse made a noise and fluttered a hand toward the nightstand. Gabriel found and grabbed the lube out of the top shelf and squirted a little on his fingertips while Jesse busied himself. Kissing his neck, sweet little pecks, before teething his earlobe, taking the shell into his mouth and— _fuck_.

Gabriel groaned and sank down onto him, giving Jesse license to mouth, lick, and tease him. Jesse put pressure on the arch of his ear with his teeth, and Gabriel shuddered. It drew a chuckle out of Jesse, his voice bedroom dark and husky against his ear. “Like that, huh?”

He kissed Jesse hard, rubbing his slicked fingers against Jesse’s hole. Jesse flopped his head back and let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine, so needy, so desperate, Gabriel groaned with him. He burrowed his face into Jesse neck, kissing him, tasting him—cigarettes, a hint of whiskey—while his fingers worked, teasing him until Jesse squirmed. Gabriel kissed a line up to his ear, whispered, “Like that, huh?” and smiled against his skin.

“ _God_.” Jesse captured his lips in a kiss. “Fuckin’ tease, aren’t you, darlin’?” 

“You have no idea.”

Gabriel kissed him back hard, then traced the hard circle of muscle with his fingers, slipping in the tip of one. Jesse arched his chin up, throat exposed and gasped, and Gabriel kissed him there, laying one on his Adam’s apple, his collarbones, as he teased him. Gabriel could’ve spent hours teasing Jesse like this, but Jesse had other plans. Desperate, Jesse jerked down and took Gabriel’s finger in, down to the hilt, fucked himself on it until both of them couldn’t stand it any longer. The second finger was a quick affair, the stretching, the preparation rushed—Jesse kissed him hard, breathless. “Goddamnit, Gabe. I need you to fuck me. _Now_.”

He couldn’t deny him any longer. Gabriel settled between Jesse’s thighs and guided his dick to Jesse’s hole, breaching just a little so that Jesse—

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Jesse hissed. “Fuckin’ hung like a goddamn horse.”

“Expected something else?” —and it was Gabriel’s turn to be cocky.

Jesse let out a ribbon of a laugh, and Gabriel nestled into Jesse’s neck again, soothing him with kisses, keeping his hips still so the pain of the stretch would die down. When Jesse eased his death grip off his shoulders, relaxed, Jesse whispered, “Move,” in his ear. Not an ask, but an _order_.

It thrilled Gabriel to no end.

Gabriel slipped into him further, and Jesse tensed again, recovering quicker with a little groan. Slowly, as gentle as he could, Gabriel slipped out again, to the tip, then gave him a shallow, easy thrust, to test, to make sure. Jesse teethed his ear again, and Gabriel couldn’t help but give Jesse a harder, more confident thrust, making Jesse groan louder with the effort. He wanted more of that, the panting, the noises just in the back of his throat—so he pushed into him with a steady, even pace—the compromise between sweet and rough. Jesse kissed his lips, deep and loving, as Gabriel made love to him. Gabriel hooked his arm under Jesse’s knee and drove into him over and over again, in rhythm with Jesse’s groans, his panting, his breathless little whispers…

And when Jesse was close, his body trembling with his release, Gabriel kissed him sweet. They came together in each other’s arms and collapsed together too, boneless and spent. They didn’t care about the mess between them. They cuddled, with Gabriel’s head on Jesse’s chest. The happy thump, thump, thump of Jesse’s heartbeat, his warmth, the way Jesse hugged him close like he couldn’t bear to let him go… 

He woke a little later to find Jesse still awake, staring at the clock. 11:59 PM. When the clock turned midnight, Jesse tilted Gabriel’s head back—and that’s when he saw it: the mistletoe hanging right over his head. Jesse winked and dangled it a little, whispered, “Merry Christmas,” then leaned over to kiss him soundly on the lips. It was tender, loving, and quelled every doubt he ever had about he and Jesse.

It was the best Christmas gift he could’ve ever asked for.


End file.
